Falling Through
by Mitsima
Summary: A gaiden fic, Tenpou/Kenren. Short epilogue added. Enjoy :)
1. Rain, good wine, and bad company

Chapter 1:   
  
It was on times like these when he just wished to escape from the overworld, its crystalline perfection and immaculately refined elegance. It was on times like these when he would simply be drawn to the world below out of mere curiosity and a strange desire to steep himself in elemental imperfection. So then it would be on times like these when Tenpou, field marshal of the celestial army, would find himself without company, without books, without superiors, without subordinates, without rank, and without bureaucratic tangles and spider web conspiracies. Nothing but himself and a humid, earthly summer in a land where emerald green mountains rose magestically to the sky, where the sparkling mist hung low embracing those sleeping giants. Nothing but Tenpou and a steady fall of rain.   
  
Nobody would have noticed the solitary figure propped up on a smooth, flat stone at the top of a hill, looking over the valley below as if one of the silent guardian spirits so worshipped at the time. In fact, even if any passing villager had bothered to actually look, his or her eyes would have only fallen upon the image of a solemn wolf whose silver form wavered against the fiery strokes of light that painted the late afternoon sky. A disguised god seeking a momentary respite from heaven, though it never really was his heaven. And so Tenpou sat, observing without pondering the peculiar double presence of a harsh sun and a gentle rainfall.   
  
Once in a blue moon he would find among his vast collection of scrolls and books, one or two poems written by well bred generals of a ruling class not about battle strategy and blood, but the simple beauty of the land they fought to protect. And inevitably, his calculating eyes would suddenly stumble upon praises of the rain. Life giver. Food giver. Tears of angels that washed away the blood strewn upon the torn battlefield. A celestial cleansing. But the most ironic, to him at least, was that so many civilizations of this world considered this purely earthly phenomenon to be a gift from the gods. It never even rained in heaven.  
  
But here they certainly do need it. Thought Tenpou casually as he noted the sticky heat and shrugged out of his protocol black uniform jacket, the cool drops of water easily penetrating the silken fabric of the shirt underneath. They beaded on his bangs and lashes, ran down his face in steady rivulets- a tender, natural caress.  
  
Tenpou came to this very spot often to seek the sensations that heaven could never provide in its perpetually pristine snow globe utopia. Up there, it felt too untainted. Uncolored. The soul was too restrained, strictly inhibited and locked in pearly cases with golden keys. A marble fountain whose watery surface had frozen over. And forever it shall remain unless someone powerful enough decides to shatter it all. Perhaps it would be for the better- to force a bit of animation onto a stagnant Shangri la.   
  
So until the ice cracked, fleeting instants on earth would be enough to keep him from turning into just another sculpture in that glassy house of cards. The air here felt almost surged with electric energy. Deliciously impure. A drug to treat the senses. Everything just seemed to breathe and radiate a life of its own. Everything felt deep and heady. Everything rich and spicy. Everything sensual and sultry. Everything feeding on raw emotion and passion. Everything hissed and whispered. And Tenpou would just sit and listen for small eternities...but apparently never considered, or even cared that a certain general might be looking for him.   
  
***  
  
"Bastard!" growled Kenren to himself as he strayed away from the polite mingling of military officers and nobles that congregated in the main dining room of the palace.   
  
Bullshit politicians. Bullshit politics. Bullshit conspiracies. "And damn that Tenpou for wussing out of it!" The only redeeming feature of those insufferable hours was the good wine. The best in fact. And it would take little intelligence to deduct that the hotheaded Taishou preferred good wine to bad company. Good company, it must be admitted, was rather difficult to find at such stifling social gatherings of higher ups spewing self-glorifying compliments to their own power.   
  
Konzen could be tolerated, for a time. Goku was just out of the question because he was never invited- for good reason too. And then there was Tenpou the best company heaven could possibly grant him. Tenpou Gensui was level headed, calculating, quiet, though tactfully haughty, diplomatic and ABSENT.  
  
To hell with all his good qualities. And he could have at least said something about not coming. Oh, he so owes me now.   
  
"Where's the Marshall? Shouldn't he be at the dinner?" they asked right after the appetizers, half curious, half jeering because...well...everyone knows the rumors so there's no need to even explain. The empty seat next to him seemed to radiate a strange multitude of speculations, the most popular being a "lover's quarrel" which one noble did not hesitate to mutter in delight.  
  
Kenren feigned apathy and shrugged although his mind was fishing for some convenient answer that wouldn't fuel any future slander. Fortunately, Konzen cut in for him. "He's doing a cursory surveillance round on earth." the Boddhisvata's nephew explained coolly, not even bothering to glance at Kenren.   
  
"Isn't that a subordinate's duty, General?." another aristocrat quirked with a hint of a smirk on his face. "Or is he just doing you a little favor among others? Perhaps it should be the other way around?"  
  
What a fucking dipshit.   
  
An infinite amount of obscenities learned over millennia were flying through his alcohol tinged mind. Was that a challenge? You throw dirt, I'll give you a fucking mud slide...   
  
Beneath the table, the general clenched his fist in order to maintain composure, his eyes narrowing with growing irritation.  
  
"Isn't this the pot calling the china black?" Kenren grinned maliciously as he saw the man pale, turning white as the tablecloth. Okay, he never really saw himself nor Tenpou as 'fine china' but it was the only thing in the damn kitchen he knew wasn't black. (And Tenpou would just be plain insulted if he were compared to a see-through wine glass). "Just because you're bent towards under-the-table "deals" doesn't mean you should assume others are too."  
  
So much for diplomacy. But wow. That came out way nicer than he'd been planning. Perhaps he'd been spending too much time with these aristocrats. But since Kenren was already on track he added contemptuously in his own haughty style, "With all do respect, sir, if you were honestly thinking of the Marshall in any way save professionally, I just gotta say that he ain't your type at all."   
  
So much for not feeding rumors, but the anguished look of humiliation on the counselor's face would be worth every word of new gossip.   
  
Kenren's remark was received by a few amused smiles in his favor. Even Konzen, who was delicately sipping his wine at the time, lightly choked on the dark liquid in surprise and almost spat it out at the offended noble. The latter then flushed a bright red and indignantly turned away from the general in order to start a safer conversation with the lieutenant of the southern armies (who, by the way, also strained to keep a straight face so as to avoid the wrath of Kenren's victim).  
  
The next few hours, however boring, were blissfully devoid of the innovated scandals that usually followed him as surely as his own shadow. And after tonight, he was confident that the blatant wisecracks would be avoided for at least a week.   
  
In any case, that problem momentarily solved, Kenren was left with one last puzzle: that damned empty seat.   
  
Darkness had fallen upon the celestial realm. It was another perfectly tranquil night which had been preceded by an infinite number of tranquil nights exactly like it, possibly unchanged since the beginning of time. A large moon loomed overhead- radiant silver illuminating its unblemished surface. The night garden had come alive and the supple white flowers opened slowly, if not shyly, upon being graced by the gently shining moonbeams.  
  
Kenren cared very little for such delicate beauty. Perhaps the aristocratic Konzen had the breeding to appreciate it, but as for the General, he was moved by good alcohol, a good fight and good company- not necessarily in that order, of course. Now then, speaking of company...  
  
"Sulking?" The voice rung out clear in the stillness of night. Having stopped his little stroll while next to the garden's pond, Kenren only needed to look into mirror reflection of the still water to identify the voice- not that he really needed visual confirmation anyway. Konzen would have been the only one with enough nerve to confront him after his previous performance.  
  
"Not at all. Why the fuck would I be?"  
  
No answer. Typical.   
  
Kenren shrugged and reached into his pocket to pull out a new pack of cigarettes. "Hey, what you said back there...were you..."  
  
"I was lying." said the other with well constructed apathy. "I don't know where the fool went..."  
  
The stingless insult was taken just as it was given. Neither made a fuss as Kenren lit up.  
  
"...all I know is that he's back now."   
  
"Hmm." The reply was uncharacteristically short, but it was Kenren's way of showing how pissed off he was at the time. "Baka." he replied to no one in particular, only half thinking as he watched the gray swirls of smoke rise up and mix with the pale rays of moonlight.   
  
The crisp ruffling of expensive fabric whispered through the air. Konzen was taking his leave. "When you see the marshal," the bureaucrat started, not bothering to look over his shoulder, "Tell him not to be so neglectful of his social obligations. I'm not covering for him again. It's a waste of breath." And with that, he left the general to his ruminations.  
  
The wind had stilled and not a ripple was made upon the pond's surface producing a perfect reflection of the world that had created it. A perfect representation as well, for one knows that the surface is only the surface and below the surface anything imaginable can exist. A lot of rocks, that's for sure. And murky water.   
  
Tonight, the water was a motionless, opaque obsidian, which made Kenren remember something Tenpou had once mentioned out of the blue over a cup of sake.  
  
"Black ice. It's frozen mist. Thin and treacherous. I know what you're going to say. 'A little water ain't gonna hurt nobody' or something as uncouth as that. Don't bother asking why I'm even mention it. I guess you could call it friendly advice?"   
  
At that point, Kenren lifted a curious brow, but said nothing because the tone in which Tenpou spoke told him that the marshal expected no answer. Tenpou smiled good-naturedly though it did little to reassure the lightly muddled general.  
  
"Perhaps you'll understand it later and perhaps through a stroke of good luck, you won't, but nevermind that for now." He paused, gazing into the small cup of strong, clear liquid like a tea reader looking into a shady future. "But say you needed to cross an iced-over lake in order to obtain some sort of goal. Going around the lake's perimeter would simply be too tedious, so then you calculate that the ice is thick enough to support your weight."  
  
"Ain't somethin' I would do, though." interceded Kenren, gulping down the rest of the sake.   
  
"You really should learn how to swim..."  
  
"Forget I even said anything. That isn't the point."   
  
A slight frown then turned down the sides of Tenpou's mouth at the other's answer, but he continued nevertheless.  
  
"But let's just say that the risk is actually worth it because the goal is that important...So you cross and it starts off well, but you don't notice that patch of black ice because it in the darkness of night, it appears to be consistent with the rest of the lake although it isn't even thick enough to sustain that empty sake glass you're holding. By the way, I hope you left some for me..."  
  
Not answering verbally, Kenren reached over and poured the last drops of sake into Tenpou's cup, eyes never leaving those of the other. Tenpou's intense gaze loooked completely sober- which made his words all the more unsettling.  
  
"Anyway, you don't foresee the danger so you fall through the surface, into the water and never come out. In short, you die -although for us the term might not be accurate- because it's the quickest means to an end."  
  
"But according to you, a worthy end."  
  
"No drunken idiot would try to cross a frozen lake in the dead of the night."  
  
The conversation had taken place not too long ago and at the time, he had simply assumed Tenpou's words to be the product of a little too much strong wine before a meal. It puzzled him still and it would perhaps puzzle him until the end of eternity or at least...until he sees that end for himself. The thought made him shudder and in his mind Kenren thrice dammed the other man for planting the idea in his head. Tenpou was planning something, it was obvious, but whatever it was, he knew almost for certain that the marshal wasn't going to tell him until they were both walking on thin ice. 


	2. If you meet a god...

Chapter 2:  
  
Several hours ago...  
  
The Little Phoenix Inn and Tavern was having a slow day. A really slow day. Being at the crossroads of trading routes had its advantages, but at this particular time of year, not many travelers usually came through, especially with the war waging in the east between the Three Kingdoms. The trade embargoes had been activated, but there were always small town merchants creeping their way across the borders unnoticed. In other words, business was never completely lost.  
  
The tavern on the ground floor was sparsely occupied, mostly by men too old to fight, injured soldiers that had been mercifully discharged, a few merchants, a whore or two, a musician playing simple melodies on a bamboo flute, and the innkeeper herself who was busy in the back rooms preparing dinner for her tenants. Smoke wafted up from tobacco pipes and cigarettes, adding a bittersweet essence to the humid air around them.  
  
Rain fell in incessant little droplets. A couple of farmers nodded approvingly at the window. It was going to be a fruitful season- as long as the war stayed exactly where it was. Life was slow, but nobody minded one bit. At least the fighting hadn't reached this far west. This peace was a blessing no living soul in the area would curse and that is why a feeling of apprehension suddenly dropped upon the guests of the inn like a deadweight when a black-clad uniformed stranger arrived. Heads looked up upon the entrance of the newcomer.  
  
He was young, no more than twenty five, with dark brown hair that reached past his chin and spectacles which, in the humidity of the day, fogged up, obscuring jade green eyes. But it was not his handsome features that called attention, but the obvious military insignia pinned to his black jacket that caused unspoken worry. Had he come to announce the extension of battleground? Had he come to advise an evacuation? Had he come to say that the fourth kingdom in the west had decided to join the war? Had he come to draft more men? Several tenants shifted in their seats, but the newcomer paid them no heed.  
  
The stranger seated himself wordlessly by the window, eyes fixated on the little streams of raindrops that washed down, weaving intricate narrow rivers on the glass. Not long after, the innkeeper - a short, middle aged woman who went by the name of Maian - came to attend him in her usual warm and energetic manner.   
  
"Good day, good sir!" she greeted, instantly seeing the insignia and interpreting it to be a symbol of high rank. "Have you come for a room? Four silver pieces a night. It may seem a bit pricy, but the place is impeccably clean. I see to it myself!" Maian declared proudly, then lowering her voice to a near whisper said. "But I'm sure that you understand, sir, that the war has made business a little difficult lately."  
  
The man nodded sensibly, an understanding smile tilted up the sides of his mouth. "Of course. But no room for me, just a beer. Perhaps a meal too, if you would be so kind."  
  
"Of course, sir! Kourin!!!!!" she called for the waitress. "Our best ale and a good meal for the gentleman!"   
  
A young girl jumped up and ran into the kitchen, coming out a minute later with a bowl of steaming hot rice and meat along with a goblet of the locally brewed beer which the innkeeper gloated was the best in the region.  
  
Tenpou gave another customary smile, sipped, and complimented the quality of the flavor. Immensely pleased, the innkeeper gave a quick bow then went off to tend to other guests. When she was out of earshot, the marshal chuckled to himself. "They treat me better here than they do up there."  
  
But before he could take even a bite out of the course meal, the innkeeper scuttled quickly back. "Oh forgive a senile old woman like me, good sir! I just now realized how soaked to the bone you are!"  
  
"Oh, it's quite all right you don't have to trouble yoursel-" Before the brunette could even finish his sentence, Maian shoved a bundle of clothes in his arms.   
  
"Please, put these on. They belonged to my son before he died in the war. Were you comrades in arms? I'm sure you were since you came here and his regiment was the closest one to this town. Come now. I want no condolences from you! He died bravely. That's what people have told me and that's what I believe because he was a brave boy. Oh my, now I'm just being a little chatterbox. Go change. It takes forever for wooden seats to dry anyways!"  
  
With that, Tenpou was led to a room where he changed and not knowing where to put the wet uniform, shoved it into an empty closet for safekeeping. He found human ways amusing, especially their never-ending attachment to things long gone. No doubt the innkeeper saw her son in him. It was quite refreshing in its own way, for it has been literally ages since he himself had seen his own mother.  
  
No matter though. The real question was why he had come here in the first place. Tenpou didn't know, nor did he even think as his feet led him down the hill and into the small town settled in the valley below his little perch. His only feasible motive for the rare visit was simple curiosity- a chance to exist alongside the people he always read about- for books can only convey so much.   
  
Now clad in a loose cotton shirt and rough gray slacks, Tenpou made his way back to the table, only now noticing the multiple pairs of eyes that were glued onto him. He raised a slender brow, shrugged, and returned his attention to the ale - which by his standards was a bit too bitter and raw to be considered the finest, though there was no complaining considering that its brewers were humans.  
  
"Oi." A rough voice broke his attention away from the world outside. "Soldier."  
"Hm?" Tenpou looked up to see a young man of medium height, light brown hair and tan skin standing by his table with a small red satchel under his arm. He was clad in a blue traveler's tunic, leather boots and worn black slacks and couldn't have been more than seventeen years old. "Can I help you?"  
  
The boy cocked his head to the side, a light smile indicating his amusement at the strange accent in which this stranger talked. "You're not from around here are you?"  
  
"No. I guess not." the Marshal replied.  
  
"You are a soldier, right? Nobody else would wear a suit like that."  
  
"I can't fool anyone can I?" said Tenpou, chuckling softly.  
  
"Not like you were trying to hide it though."  
  
"No. Of course not. Sit down, please. I don't like looking up at people while having conversations with them." And it was true. Something in Tenpou's nature made him heartily dislike speaking up to people and being looked down upon- physically and mentally. "I also don't like it when people don't say what they really want to say and instead think of dead end ways of starting a conversation."  
  
Taking a seat across from the disguised god, the boy took the unsubtle hint. He lowered his head and said in a near whisper. "Did you know that you're scaring the hell out of almost everybody here? What's your business?"  
  
"My, my, can't a man have a drink without getting the third degree?" Tenpou's smile and good humor did not falter. "I'm just here for a drink, nothing else, so rest easy...um...I believe I didn't catch your name."  
  
"Liam." the boy responded, then after a brief, almost embarrassed pause, "That's it? Just for second rate alcohol?" Liam sounded almost disappointed.  
  
Tenpou looked up from his drink. "Why? Were you expecting something else from me?"  
  
"I thought you were here to draft." admitted the young man, staring so hard into the wooden table that he could have burned holes in it with is eyes.  
  
The other nodded with increased understanding. "So you want to fight, is that it? How noble-"  
  
"I don't have any noble reasons at all for wanting to!" Liam cut in almost fiercely. "What do I care about defending the country, my home when it had already been destroyed by the troops that were supposed to be defending it! They kicked us out of hour homes so they could live off our hard earned food and possessions." When he realized what he had said and who he thought he was talking to, Liam looked away, greatly ashamed. With a muttered apology, he made to get up and walk away, wanting to kick himself for approaching the soldier in the first place.  
  
The outburst had finally gained the marshal's full attention and he leaned forward on the table in obvious interest. "They why do you want to join the army if you hate it so much?"  
  
"You'd probably kill me." the boy concluded, with strange certainty.  
  
"Why would I? The politics here doesn't concern me the least bit. And even if I did -though I highly doubt whatever you say will endanger your physical health- I wouldn't be able to kill you. In any case, there's no harm in stating opinions."  
  
The statement received a strange expression from the younger of the two. "Man, you aren't from around here, are you? Or maybe you're just oblivious. Just thinking the wrong thing'll get you decapitated if the wrong person were there to catch the vibes. That's the way it is here, at least. I don't know about how it is where you're from."  
  
"Just the same- only without the decapitation part...but you were saying?"  
  
Liam looked at him in no attempt to hide his distrust, but continued anyways, voice still just over a whisper. "I wanna bring 'em down. Down to everyone else's level."  
  
"I don't follow." Tenpou said honestly, mentally jotting down notes in his calculating mind on the matter- from Liam's very words to the bitter intensity of his eyes.  
  
"You know, make the higher ups realize that they have responsibilities towards the people. I swear, them generals n' captains are in their own little world up there. Somebody's gotta tell 'em its down here that counts!"  
  
Tenpou looked up at the sky at Liam's mention of that 'little world up there' nodding in agreement. "But they're very stubborn. I don't think they want to change that little world. And usually, whatever they say goes...or doesn't go- depending on what they want exactly. Plus, a little subversion can go a long way. You may end up shaking the foundation of the system and then facing 'dire consequences'..." He gazed back at the young man, who seemed deep in thought with his brows furrowed in concentration.   
  
After a minute or two of silence. Liam answered stubbornly. "I don't give a shit."  
  
"Now that's noble." said Tenpou, his jade eyes bright with mirth as he saw a little bit of a certain general's attitude within the young man. Kenren would be proud.  
  
"Fuck being noble. Just as long as things change."   
  
Very very proud.  
  
"Then why don't you do it? Make history a little more interesting. There's no point in waiting here so that opportunity can build a fucking door for you to walk through. Besides, this town is full of decrepits. The draft will never reach it." the marshal insisted, feeling already very much involved in the young man's firebrand inclinations.  
  
"Money." Liam answered very simply. "I need money for armor, clothes, tools, and weapons."  
  
"What do you do now?" ventured Tenpou, finally realizing that the boy couldn't have been a full time revolutionary.   
  
At the question, Liam put the bag on the table and pulled out several bundles of different dried herbs. "I sell medicinal plants. Mostly to local healers and the like. The land is good here, so my family keeps a small garden to grow them in."  
  
From his pocket, Tenpou produced a small velvet satchel. "I'll buy everything you've got on hand to sell right now."   
  
Something of late had begun to prod at the back of Tenpou's mind, something he forgot to do and should be doing, or people he should be meeting, or a file he forgot to submit. It nagged at him incessantly until he finally stood up to leave.  
  
"You're kidding." But Liam was gaping stupidly at the offer.  
  
"If you were five years old, I'd be kidding."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"Everything."  
  
"But all this would be worth, like, an entire goldpiece!" interjected Liam as the other produced the necessary goldpiece from the satchel and put it back inside.  
  
"You think it's too expensive to be wasting my money or is it that you think its charity and are to prideful to accept it? You have a cause, don't you?" Tenpou was getting impatient.  
  
"Fine. I'll take it." the boy spat out as if trying to act like he were forced to accept the money. His appreciative expression, however, expressed infinite gratitude. "On one condition."  
  
Tenpou was already halfway to the exit by the time he said this. Turning around and crossing his arms with a smirk playing on his lips, he inquired. "Condition? Aren't we the savvy businessman?"  
  
"That I..." Liam gave a cursory glance around the room to make sure their conversation went unheard. "That I get to pay you back because I know there's a hell of a lot more money in here than just a goldpiece. It's heavy, which means I can get everything I need and be off. How can I..."  
  
"Money. In the universal essence, it's just a bunch of shiny rocks." Commented the god nonchalantly. "But if you insist...perhaps get a temple built somewhere."  
  
"You don't seem like the religious type."  
  
"I'm not." Tenpou smiled over his shoulder ironically as he pushed open the wooden door, allowing the sound of falling rain to drown out the last bits of their conversation. "But maybe you'll win the favor of the gods more quickly that way. It's always more to your benefit to be on their good side."  
  
The young merchant laughed heartily. "What? And you're not?"  
  
"I guess you could say that."  
  
"Fuck it. You're the kinda guy who doesn't need them. And from the way you were speakin', it sounds like you're out to cause the same trouble I'm planning on."  
  
The rain was starting to fall harder, making the world outside blur like a watercolor painting. Tenpou Gensui was absolutely mesmerized as the sky seemed to cry right before his eyes. "Sometimes you have to break what must be broken."   
  
"Don't worry. I'll get that temple built." Reassured Liam. "Maybe the powers that be might be a little more merciful with you since you were the one who had suggested it in the first place."  
  
"You can only hope, right?"  
  
"Just like walking across a lake of ice. But if you fall you fall. What's the worst that can happen? Death? You'd end up living again anyway. Safe travels!" The boy bowed the merchants bow and brought the satchel to his chest.  
  
And with that last farewell, Tenpou waited until the boy turned around before stepping out into the curtain of rain and disappearing. 


	3. Gazing at butterflies

// I have the wisdom of several millennia in my soul and the entire military knowledge of eight hundred generations of humans in my head- about two hundred generations of works still on my shelves- yet here I am in the middle of the night doing nothing but staring at butterflies //  
  
Tenpou stretched and sunk deeper into the seat of his cluttered desk, a newly lit cigarette dangling from his lips and a fiery cup of strong wine propped up on a low stool next to him. Just fresh out of a greatly needed hot bath, the marshal's damp hair clung to the smooth skin of his cheeks and forehead and he sighed contentedly, letting his muscles relax little by little, aided by the lullaby-sweet warmth of alcohol that flowed through his veins.   
  
The heavy air around him was still steamy from his bath, and he had opened the window to let the night breeze grace his senses. Tenpou delighted in the feeling of the tender coolness washing over him- like featherlight kisses from the darkness that whispered over his moistened face and neck.   
  
//I guess even this broken down paradise has its moments// thought Tenpou sleepily as his eyes began to drift shut, his vision shifting between darkness and the occasional glimmer of the night butterflies with the shimmering wings ... butterflies that have danced by his window night after night...butterflies that he had never even seen before Goku came to point them out although they were always there by the window... every night since the beginning of time.   
  
Yes...Goku saw things nobody else did, sensed things nobody knew existed, and felt things everyone else was too empty to feel. So yes...in a sense...Goku was actually much knowledgeable in that area of life than the older man. The boy's perception was so finely tuned to a frequency the marshal was just not capable of receiving, much less transmitting. Which meant that Goku had the ability to achieve the innocent fulfillment of Tenpou-didn't-know-what... and it was that...that *thing* (whatever it was) that made one feel wholly alive.   
  
Long before Goku was brought from earth, Tenpou had discovered that emptiness, but hadn't the slightest idea what to do about it. The helplessness of the situation was quite frustrating, really, but he managed to plug that gaping hole in his heart with books. And after half an eternity of endless readings, he concluded there was no more room save for scrolls and strategy. No ravine to fall through. The ice was safe...solid down to the bottom. Which meant that he was completely immune to...  
  
Attachments. Silly things they were. Tenpou never even believed himself capable of it. But when some eloquently swearing, alcohol chugging general decided to barge into his life with a stun gun and ice pick, the marshal started to doubt. That's when it became dangerous- in more ways than one. Looking objectively (and perhaps this was how Konzen saw it), Kenren and Tenpou together were like a deadly bullet in the hands of a master marksman. The dull-witted court aristocrats saw something else completely different. Lovers. Let them believe it. If all had Konzen's eyes, then Tenpou would have to settle for a stalemate in his gameplan. Whatever he wished to happen would never happen and the pain of his loss would be drowned in another half eternity of war literature. Collective ignorance was key...but to what?  
  
To creating a heaven someone like Liam wouldn't wish to condemn. Certainly, if Tenpou didn't do it, his earthly counterpart just might when he discovers how stifling the air is up here...but the marshal wanted to feel alive as well, though not in the way Goku did.   
  
The only way Tenpou could ever *feel* himself existing was to see what he had the power to do with his own hands, his own mind, even if it meant suffering the consequences. At least when you suffer, you know you're alive. "Fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don't be afraid- the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again." he once read.   
  
And what of people...certain hotheaded generals...who didn't know how to swim?  
  
Kenren was good to him, but Tenpou Gensui felt that he had no right to drag the general down with him if ever he should fall. The marshal had already lost one subordinate. One was enough. Two would be fine only if that second one never looked at Tenpou with "that look" in his eyes that said...-Tenpou smiled to himself, only a hint of a blush in his cheeks.  
  
No. Better to stand alone when the moment comes. Better for Kenren. Better for Tenpou. Better for Goku and Konzen.   
  
There. Done. Signed, sealed, and delivered. He was decided. When they got to the edge of that damn metaphorical lake, Kenren was going to *stay* there and watch while Tenpou crossed- even if he had to tie the Taishou to a fucking tree to keep him from following.  
  
So then, where was Kenren in the entire scheme of things? He drank. He smoked, He always stirred up trouble so that Tenpou could do his planning. He swore. He shouted. He cleaned up Tenpou's study. He was the only one who actually forced the other to take baths. He laughed. He spoke without reservation.   
  
He was useful, so utterly useful. Nothing less...and Tenpou wished he could complete that thought with 'nothing more' but it would have been a downright lie.  
  
But...'so much more'? What proof was there of such an assertion? A few sidelong glances? A flirtatious comment or two? That was nothing. As a matter of fact, 'nothing' was safer ground. 'Something' would have been quicksand- and it was the only thing in this universe that frightened him.  
  
Conclusion: there was no room left for that 'something.' Tenpou had resolved long ago that his life was nothing more than literature and equations, indelible historical facts and the scientific. In short, he figured everything out eventually. Everything except for 'the obscure something'. So to make the equation a little easier to handle, if one cancels it out from both sides, the function simplifies itself, giving the exact number of answers required by the original problem. Factor in ambiguous sentiments, and one is bound to fall straight into an irrational and highly radical trap.  
  
Then again, if he wanted life super simple, he could just stop thinking about equations, relationships, and war altogether and just stare at the nighttime butterflies dancing under the moonlight. And stare he did. And think he didn't. Until he was pulled into sleep's gentle embrace.   
  
***  
  
From the palace to Tenpou's room and study in the Western Army's living complex was a journey in itself. And like all good journeys, Kenren's involved a few rest stops to take a swig or two or three from his wine flask.   
  
Not in the mood to risk braving the labyrinth of hallways, bedrooms, kitchens, studies, strategy rooms, sitting rooms and courtyards, Kenren cut through the palace gardens and crossed into the understandably less ornate east terrace of the Western Army complex. True to Konzen's word, the marshal's rooms were illuminated by a soft glow of golden lamplight.   
  
Intruding had been easy enough, for the window to the bedroom was unlocked. To Kenren's dismay, nobody was there. Stepping gingerly about carelessly ignored books and half unrolled scrolls, Kenren Taishou maneuvered his way to Tenpou's study.   
  
"Oi, Tenpou!" he called out. No response.  
  
With a resigned grumble about how books made people deaf, Kenren rounded the last corner. What greeted him was silence and the object of his search slumped against a chair, fast asleep, his head tilted downward and wet brunette locks falling into his face.  
  
A single cold cigarette sat in the ashtray and a nearly empty glass of wine stood nearby. Then...something flickered, silver and shiny. Kenren approached the desk and squinted to clear up his alcohol fogged vision. He couldn't help but laugh quietly, his previous irritation with the man fading away into the recesses of his mind.   
  
A little butterfly had decided use to Tenpou's head as a temporary perch.   
  
"What if he wakes up and finds you there, eh?" The alcohol began to speak to the butterfly. "You'll end up as a little squashed wall decoration that I'll have to clean up later on."  
  
The butterfly answered the only way it could: with silence.  
  
"Oh, so you like it there? Not that I blame you, but..." Kenren said almost apologetically as he brushed the butterfly away, sending it fluttering back to its spot by the window. "I don't like to share."  
  
His attention back to the slumbering marshal, Kenren absently reached down and tucked the unruly strands of hair back behind Tenpou's ear. The other stirred quietly, head tilting ever so slightly towards the general's light touch.   
  
So as Kenren silently gazed at the marshal, his one last train of coherent thought was running circles in his head, steadfast on one undeviating track. And as he looked harder at that calm face, for once vulnerable, for once unguarded; and as he looked at those slightly parted lips, for once not bearing a deceptive message, for once inviting...  
  
Two words began to form in his mind's eye in meekly scrawled letters that flashed in psychedelic Technicolor...  
  
*Why not?*  
  
Kenren held his breath, and for one sweeping instant, the room was silent save the deep and easy sounds of Tenpou's steady breathing.   
  
Perhaps momentary delusion was what caused Kenren to actually contemplate actualizing what he felt was way beyond him. Or maybe it was the crazy belief in that delusion that moved him to kneel quietly by the marshal's side, eyes fixed on pale lips. Or maybe it was the alcohol -sweet confidence in a bottle- that gave Kenren the nerve to lean down and touch that quietly waiting mouth with his own in an ever so gentle kiss.   
  
For an instant, perhaps even a fraction of an instant, he felt Tenpou lean into him. Then against his better judgment (which prompted him to just get up and walk away...fast) Kenren lingered hopefully, so drugged by the entire experience that he didn't notice a single emerald eye flutter sleepily open. And it was no more than a second after Tenpou's leap from unconsciousness that Kenren found himself painfully toppled to the floor, his own tranquilizer gun against his neck, and a VERY wakeful field marshal looking down upon him with a cool, near expressionless gaze. The only indication that Tenpou was in some form surprised was that his breathing had visually quickened, breaths mildly shallower as he immediately regained composure.   
  
But something about the steeliness and quiet anger in those eyes told Kenren that the other was actually still quite confused, much less fully awake, given that Tenpou appeared more to be looking straight through him instead of actually at him. The brunette had acted out of a purely programmed, automatic survival reflex, and the general figured that the safest way to get through this without getting humiliatingly blasted by his own weapon was by waiting until Tenpou collected his mental faculties once again.   
  
Swiftly and surely, the mechanically inset expression was lifted and the stern visage was replaced by one of near impassive puzzlement.   
  
"Oh. It's you." 


	4. And then all just breaks

"Oh, it's you." Tenpou said in a voice all too calm as he examined Kenren's gun interestedly as if trying to remember why he had it in the first place. "Really, you shouldn't carry this with you when you're not on the battlefield. It shows that you're distrustful."  
  
"Then what the hell was that!" exclaimed an ironically scandalized and immediately sobered Kenren, referring to the other's excessive defense against a simple kiss. Rubbing the tender skin of his neck where the cold barrel of the gun had left a reddish mark, he cursed under his breath.   
  
After returning the gun to his disgruntled subordinate, Tenpou brushed a few specks of dust from the book he had been previously reading before turning his back on the general and climbing a short ladder to delicately insert it in its proper place. "I might like to ask you the same question."  
  
"What? You don't know what a kiss is? Or is it that you've never been kissed before?" retorted Kenren, smirking as he pulled himself up and all but discreetly unloaded the ammunition that was in the weapon.   
  
"Oh, many times." replied Tenpou, running a slender hand through damp hair. "I just never thought it would come from you, that's all. What prompted you to do it?" he asked, his back still facing the other in order to hide any form of apprehension but nevertheless, Kenren noticed the subtle tensing of the marshal's muscles.   
  
"Alcohol and curiosity."   
  
The answer must have satisfied Tenpou to an extent, based on the way he exhaled in an almost relieved manner that irked the general to no end. Tenpou smiled inwardly to himself. He never changes. But then again, that's a good thing isn't it?   
  
"And what good alcohol it must have been..." he replied, hopping off the ladder and leaning back against the book case, his head tilted to the side as he awaited his friend's reaction. Kiss or no kiss, a little bantering was always enjoyable.   
  
"How would you know?" shot Kenren, absolutely not thinking about the undertone of the statement. The other chuckled softly and at the at the periphery of his vision, the general could see Tenpou licking his lips sensibly.   
  
The answer was intelligently dropped and Tenpou went out to explore the vast terrain of interesting conversation his friend's unexpected act had opened up for them. "But nevertheless...it was a rather pleasant surprise. Is that how you're going to greet me from now on?" He smiled sweetly at Kenren, who had finally regained enough of his bearings to look Tenpou in the eye.  
  
"Maybe." he paused, finally remembering the first reason that he had come. "As long as you stop playing hooky and leaving me on the spot at social dinners."  
  
*Nothing changed. We're the same as before.* Despite his customary smiling exterior, Tenpou was repeating these words in his mind like a defensive mantra.  
  
"Oh my. That was tonight?"  
  
"Damn right." With that, Kenren snatched up two glasses and poured them some generous helpings of some stolen imperial wine he brought from the palace. Being threatened by his own gun was indeed, a very sobering experience. To even get tipsy again was going to take a lot of work. "I'll let it slide this time, but if you do it again, I ain't saving you any alcohol. Suffering through dinner with those stuck up prisses..." The raven haired man was about to go into a whining fit if the other hadn't cut him off.  
  
"Are you angry because you felt as if I stood you up? I didn't. It's not like anyone expected the two of us to show up together."  
  
Nothing changed.  
  
"You'd be surprised." said Kenren without further explanations as he held up a filled goblet towards the marshal.   
  
Tenpou gratefully took the glass. "What's this? First a kiss and then fine wine..." He took a short, contemplative pause over his glass, then added warningly. "Don't tell me you got me in trouble..."  
  
"Geeze! Can't you take anything at face value?"  
  
"If I were that type of person, I probably would never have let you into my rooms without having you knock first."  
  
Same as before.  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I'll consider it professional curtsey not to answer your question."  
  
"Okay then, answer this," Kenren started calmly before exclaiming, "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN????!!!!!"  
  
Nothing changed.  
  
"Earth."  
  
"So Konzen was telling the truth!"  
  
Tenpou sipped his wine tentatively at first, then, pleased with the sweet and fiery mixture, took a larger gulp. "Konzen covered for me? Hm...well...what a favor..."  
  
The comment evoked a pained groan from Kenren who looked sullenly into the cup. "Word of advice, don't mention the word 'favor' in front of anyone during the next century or so. It'll work to your advantage."  
  
The field marshal lifted a graceful brow. "So you did get me in trouble."  
  
Same as before.  
  
"It's your own fault, bastard." That said, Kenren plopped himself into a chair, ready to face any biting remark that might come his way.  
  
His vehemence was met by subdued laughter. "Aren't we bitter?"  
  
The remark was ignored and Kenren still didn't have the explanation for the other's disappearance. "Skipping dinner to do surveillance rounds? That's a first."  
  
"Since when have you become my keeper?"  
  
Nothing changed.  
  
"Gimme a damn answer, Tenpou." muttered Kenren. "At least give me a good reason to have defended you at that fucking table."  
  
"I wanted to feel the rain."  
  
Silence. Same as before.  
  
The general looked as if he had been slapped in the face.  
  
More silence. Nothing changed.  
  
Tenpou cocked his head inquisitively to the side.  
  
"The rain." repeated Kenren in disbelief.  
  
"Yes, you know, the type that falls from the sky."  
  
Silence. Same as before.  
  
"Lemme get this straight."  
"Hai?"   
The general tapped the hardwood floor with a booted foot. "You went aaaalllll the way down to earth..."  
  
Nothing changed.  
  
"Hai."  
  
"Just to get FUCKING RAINED ON?"  
  
"Well if you want to be blunt about it..."   
  
This was starting to get quite disconcerting. Kenren balled his hands into fists. It was the alcohol again. Or maybe it was him. Pure him. Frustrated that Tenpou always said but never did. Invited, but never welcomed. Advised, but never guided. Smiled through but never smiled for. Replied, but never gave any convincing answer. He stalked abruptly towards the marshal and pushed him roughly against the bookcase, jolting scrolls and papers from their precarious balancing acts on the shelf's edges.  
  
"Kenren, what are you-" but he stopped himself mid-sentence when he saw the rage burning behind the General's eyes.   
  
But never had Kenren ever looked at him like this before...  
  
"I was worried as hell that somethin' happened to you, baka!!!" And it was true.   
  
Many wanted the present taishou of the western army stripped of his rank, but that isn't what preoccupied Kenren. What endlessly and secretly distressed him was the almost tangible hate that hung heavy in the air of the holy city- hate directed towards a certain strategist, a certain marshal, a certain friend...perhaps more. So in Kenren's mind, if Tenpou for any reason disappeared, it could be very well be forever.  
  
And Tenpou saw all this, as Kenren's eyes bore into his own. And Tenpou could already see himself falling. And Tenpou could already see himself drowning. And Tenpou could see...in Kenren's eyes...that 'something.' And as Kenren opened his mouth to say whatever that something was, Tenpou leaned forward and kissed him because he just didn't want to hear it. Ever.   
  
Because things *have* changed.  
  
But before the general, caught off guard for the second time that night, could respond to the other's strange display of affection, Tenpou violently shoved him back, knowing that if he didn't, Kenren would follow him too far. Better to cross alone.   
If they fell, they would fall together. But Kenren didn't know how to swim...and he would be forever lost.   
  
"Kenren Taishou." Tenpou's voice had lost all mirth, but yet he smiled. "Good wine. Good fights. Good company. I won't give you more than that."  
  
Strangely enough, Kenren understood, although now the two of them were like puppets of their deceitful sentiments.   
  
The general stepped back and feigned nonchalance. "What did you think I was gonna say? That I fucking love you? Hell, I'm so drunk right now, I'd probably even say it to Konzen."  
  
"Do it and I swear I'll have you scrubbing the palace halls with a damned toothbrush for the next eight hundred years." growled an all too recognizable voice behind them. Konzen stood in the doorway, golden locks draped over one shoulder.   
  
"Ah, Konzen. To what do we owe the honor of your visit?" said Kenren, regarding the aristocrat with a jeer.   
  
Konzen glared daggers at the Taishou before shrugging and crossing his arms. "You. Out."   
  
  
  
  
  
. 


	5. Butterfly philosophies

"You. Out." Konzen ordered sternly to the taishou who suddenly turned indignant.  
  
"What the hell for?!"  
  
"I need to get some work done." the blonde replied simply. "You're an unwelcome distraction."  
  
"What work are you gonna do in the middle of the night, eh?" Kenren retorted with more than a tinge of what one may call...jealousy. "And don't you have your own office?"  
  
"The matter concerns the field marshal, not you, Taishou." Konzen was well aware that dropping by Tenpou's study in the dead of the night looked nothing but suspicious, if not slightly incongruous.   
  
But then again. It was Tenpou here. Tenpou whom he had known since they were both were Nataku's age. Tenpou who broke twigs off the cherry blossom trees when he was little and stuck them in unsightly mounds of dirt, calling it a 'proper representation of a Norse forest.' Whatever the hell that was. To the young Konzen, they were just sticks in mud. To Tenpou, they were a lot more.   
  
So the boy destined to be Marshal "constructed" more little Earths in the courtyard of his former home. The Himalayan mountains were somewhere behind the fountain. Egyptian pyramids magically appeared one day in the front garden. Oh, and Camelot was, very appropriately, outside the dining room door where all who ate at the *rectangular* table could see it.   
  
It was Konzen who first discovered the boy's enchantment with a world that was never his. But Konzen never ran away or whispered behind Tenpou's back like other children did.   
  
So then it was Konzen, who became what Tenpou might consider some semblance of a first friend- drawn naturally together because they were both solitary souls who didn't mind being solitary together.   
  
And then it was Konzen, who first dragged Tenpou to the library in order to break the other from his foolish backyard dreaming. "Earth isn't just a bunch of mud heaps, baka. People live there. People do stuff. More than we ever do..." Little did he know that statement would have a profound domino effect upon the boy's future development.  
  
And it was Konzen, who for years stayed up late into the night with Tenpou as the other indulged himself in book after book after book.   
  
He bristled.  
  
"And why wouldn't I be here?" he shot back at the general, finally feeling slightly offended and before Kenren could conjure up a comeback, Tenpou decided to interfere and put a gentle hand on the general's shoulder.   
  
"Maa, maa. You two sound like children." he chided, then addressed the taishou. "I'll see you tomorrow, ne? No hard feelings."  
  
"Course not." And with that, he left, well aware of the jadestone eyes that followed him until he was out of sight.  
  
Perhaps he should have gone to his room. Should have gone straight to sleep. Then he would wake up nice and fresh in the morning as if nothing ever happened because, of course, nothing happened. Of course. But what the hell *did* happen anyway? Kenren was too tired to sort it all out and since he was a man who appreciated simplicity, it was vastly easier to just lay it all down. Shrug the entire night off as the effect of too much alcohol.   
  
Taking out the wine flask from its holder in his belt, he smiled. Or he could just drink a little more. Just a little more so that when he woke up in the morning, he really wouldn't remember anything. It was a nice cure-all. Tempting. The general slowly brought up his hand to touch his lips. But not tempting enough. A smoke would do for the time being.  
  
Kenren turned into the courtyard and perched himself on the railing as he lit up. And so he sat. And did not think. And so he smoked.   
  
But inevitably, he started to think once again. About someplace one of his subordinates...Zenon was it?...mentioned. Someplace deep and dark. Still as death itself... "But so cold in winter that you need only be there and you knew you were alive by the way your skin screamed for warmth."   
  
In Heaven though, there was no place for screaming. Nothing to be longed for and nothing to be coveted because people here were supposed to be beyond that. No live, suffer, learn. No give give give. No take take take. Just live live live. Because you're immortal and that's the only thing you can do.   
  
Clear skies. No thunder.   
  
Clear consciences. No desire.   
  
Supposedly.   
  
Oh, but there was. So tangibly thick that you could almost taste it in the air. See it in everyone's eyes.   
  
In Nataku, he saw //save me stop me no more blood leave me alone and let me be a kid for once//  
  
Goku's eyes were as earnest and hopeful as his voice, //Don't let me be alone don't let me stay here let me go home just as long as you come with me okay?//  
  
Konzen. //leave leave leave no stay I want to be alone but no please stay//  
  
But when he looked into Tenpou's seemingly quiet eyes, Kenren encountered a maelstrom. Dissolved and invisible in the whirlwind of //war books wine smoke// there was a need never met...a gaping hole precariously covered by a thin layer of literature.   
  
//Come closer closer closer stop hold me no stop touch me stop kiss me stop stop stop because you've no place at my side but no don't go too far because I still need to see your face just don't leave me don't leave me just stay close but far enough because if I fall I know I'm gonna hold on to you and hold on tight and then we're both gone//  
  
A need the marshal would never admit to. Not after a thousand touches nor a thousand kisses. So there was no point in heartfelt declarations. No place for those either. The easiest way to live in heaven was to take things as they came without a fuss. And Kenren had nothing against that type of lifestyle- as simple as a flowing river- but there were just certain truths that needed to be accepted without question. The color of the water for example, the course it ran and where it ended up. Simple things like that. Even Goku would understand.   
  
Simple, like how there's no difference between hating Tenpou and hating Kenren. No difference between one falling and the other falling. Not anymore. No difference between Tenpou holding on to Kenren or Kenren holding on to Tenpou. Not anymore...   
  
***  
  
"You said you had business?" Tenpou urged Konzen to speak once Kenren had left.   
  
"Sort of." The answer was rather half hearted, for the noble's eyes were rather fixed on the butterflies outside the window. "But not really. Just go read or something. Brood. I don't care."  
  
"Just like old times, ne?"   
  
"Hn." Old times. When Konzen just dropped in to be there- more out of habit than active friendship. And then out of habit again, Konzen started to take out random books, flip through them, then put them back in their proper places, just as he had done when they were teenagers who simply couldn't sleep because the tea they were served was so strong it kept them up at night.   
  
Just as Tenpou was going back to his previous readings, the aristocrat's eye fell on a faded red satchel that hung on a wall peg. "So you went down there to shop as well?" he asked, voice far from derisive.  
  
"I guess I really don't need to ask how much of the conversation you heard." the marshal replied from behind a scroll. They were separated by a bookshelf, but Konzen could see in his mind the bitter smile that graced the face of the other.   
  
"None of my business what you do with yourself. I've got my own problems."  
  
Peering into the satchel, Konzen's nose was met by scents that were spicy, sweet, sharp and soft. Not knowing what was motivating him to do it, he picked out one of each type of herb and laid them out in neat rows on the floor. Unbeknownst to him was that Tenpou was quietly observing from behind. When all was laid out, Konzen picked up the dried plants one by one and began to smell them each separately, his eyes deep in thought as though he searched for something he recognized from a dream.   
  
"Um...Konzen?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"When was the last time you called me eccentric?"  
  
"Urusai!"  
  
At last, he found it- a stick of curled bark. "This is it."  
  
Tenpou's gaze turned quizzical. "What's it?"  
  
"Cinnamon. At least. I think it is. I've never seen it before. In any case, it should be."  
  
"Well it is." the Marshal's eyes danced with amusement. "I'm surprised you actually read up on things like that."  
  
"But I didn't." was the simple reply.   
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Goku told me." Konzen said a bit wistfully as he handed the cinnamon stick to Tenpou who in turn brought it up to his nose to catch its scent. "Sweet. But different. Not cherry blossom sweet. Earthly sweet." Konzen repeated the child's explanation from earlier on. "Like it was made from sweet ground. Watered with sweet water. Breathed sweet air. Bathed in sweet sunlight." A pause, as he tried to remember everything the innocent voice told him. "But not strong sweet. Light sweet. So that when you smelled it, you would want more, even though you couldn't get it."  
  
Silence and then, "You've changed, Konzen."  
  
"Why the hell does everyone keep telling me that!?" he growled irritably, snapping out of the shallow reverie. "The brat's a nuisance! It's a wonder I even tolerated him for this long..."  
  
"One can never have enough of that which one really does not want." countered Tenpou serenely. "He'll follow you to the ends of the earth and you can't stop him."  
  
"Speak for yourself."  
  
Silence again, permeated by the heavy weight of resignation.   
  
With that, Tenpou frowned and got up. "Will you excuse me. I'm going to get some fresh air. Feel free to help yourself- books, cigarettes, wine..."  
  
"I don't smoke, you know that."  
  
"And you'll never start?" He smiled again.   
  
"Never."  
  
***  
  
It was late. Late hours of early morning late. When nothing stirred and your eyes played tricks on you. You would think it was getting light, but it was only your mind's own wishful desire to have a sun to bring everything in the world back to life because at this point in the night, you felt like the only person in the universe. In short, it sucked a lot.   
  
Nevertheless, Kenren Taishou did not move once from his spot next to the courtyard. There was a pond there. Butterflies too. Pretty things they were. Like little stars that got lonely and decided to come down. Not like they had much company here save for each other. But they seemed happy all the same. It was a nice philosophy:  
  
To start alone and go your own way; only to find that you weren't the only one lookin' for whatever you were lookin' for.   
  
Complicating it any more than that would kill the beauty of simplicity.   
  
Sticking with the bare bones of the idea took your mind away from the more complicated matters of life you weighed yourself down with. Power hungry bureaucrats. Taboo creatures. Armies that just stood around while they let a kid do their work. Armies that just stood around while they let that kid get bruised, beaten, cut, thrashed, and pounded. Ugly, complicated matters that never resolved themselves.   
  
Once in a blue moon there is certain stubborn butterfly who sees only itself in the reflection of the pond it glides over. Sees nothing else but its own wings. Own body. Own fate. Paying no heed to the other butterflies that flutter in the same area and cast the exact same reflection...  
  
So in response to the Taishou's wandering thoughts, a single butterfly strayed from the rest and landed on his knee. "You again?" Not like Kenren knew the difference between one or the other, but at this point, he was willing to do anything to amuse himself. "Oh, so now you're apologizing? What for? No harm done. What's that? Nooooo. I was just kidding. He wouldn't have squashed you."  
  
The butterfly flapped (in Kenren's opinion) inquisitively.  
  
"Why? Because he's a nice guy. He only crushes people his size. Not little things like you."  
  
More flapping to answer him.   
  
"Come again? No. It's not like that. He's pretty though..."  
  
This time a voice to answer him. "My, my. I'm flattered you speak so highly of me to such important guests."  
  
"What the fuck?!" Kenren jumped as if he had been caught red handed in an attempt to cut Goujin's braid. "Don't *do* that Tenpou! I'm gonna start gettin' gray hairs because of you!"  
  
"I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help myself." the marshal said lightheartedly before mellowing his voice as the general settled back on the railing. "Kenren..."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Got a light?" Tenpou asked, as he produced a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips.  
  
"The flint's dead."  
  
"That's fine. You'll do." the brunette replied, tilting Kenren's chin up and eyeing the already lit cigarette in his mouth.   
  
And so Kenren acquiesced, pulling the other down closer so that he could light up.  
  
And for once, Tenpou let himself be pulled down.  
  
"Stay?" the raven haired man asked, hopeful.   
  
Taking a seat, Tenpou took a drag and blew it up into the air above him. "I didn't come just to leave, you know." A thoughtful pause. "Still mad at me?"  
  
"When did I say I was mad?"  
  
"Okay then." the marshal said and then took on a near malicious glint in his eye. "Still jealous?"  
  
Kenren smirked at him that had 'yes, but I don't care anymore' written all over it. Even so, he didn't continue the train of Tenpou's light teasing. He looked over at the other man and saw it in his eyes again.   
  
//don't go too far because I still need to see your face//   
  
"Tenpou Gensui..." started Kenren, staring up at the sky as he feigned formality.  
  
"Kenren Taishou." The marshal reciprocated without so much an note of warning as he had done before.   
  
"You're my superior and all that, but don't even dare to think that you're leading me on by the reins." With that, he threw down his dying cigarette and smothered it with his boot.  
  
"I never thought I was..."  
  
"Good, so you know that I can go where I wanna go and you can't do anything about it, right?"  
  
Tenpou smiled sadly. He suddenly had no desire for nicotine and did the same. "Hai. I know. Where do you plan on going then?"   
  
//just don't leave me don't leave me just stay close but far enough //  
  
Kenren didn't answer.  
  
//because if I fall I know I'm gonna hold on to you and hold on tight and then we're both gone//  
  
"Far?" Tenpou murmured with a hint of disappointment.  
  
And if Kenren wasn't sober, he would have sworn that the word was uttered by a small, lost child.   
  
He shook his head and brought a steady hand to the side of Tenpou's face, sliding his fingers from the brunette's temple to his chin, delighting in the fact that the other leaned into his touch.   
  
"Nah. Not far."  
  
"Then where?" Tenpou's eyes were already starting to drift shut. He liked this feeling. A broken down paradise had its moments, but this was definitely one of the better ones.   
  
Kenren's touch traveled from his chin, down to his throat and reached in back of his neck, coaxing Tenpou to get closer. And so the marshal leaned in until he was close enough to feel the taishou's breath.  
  
"As far as we gotta fall, I guess." The words came to him in a soft whisper.  
  
There was no use in warning Kenren about the danger of it all. Hell, someone should have warned *Tenpou* about how good this all felt. Warm lips against his own. Dire consequences thrown to the dust, all he cared about now was that he was falling.   
  
Falling and that he wanted to keep falling.   
  
  
  
Fin. 


	6. Epilogue: Thin ice

It comes. Like a whispering wind through a warm, silent night. The feeling that he was going to die. There existed a certain stillness during those moments- eternal and yet so short- and his mind wandered through the vast realm between life and death as if he were captured in a lucid dream.  
  
Then a strange current washed over his soul, carrying him away from the body that laid so motionless on that bare ground. Lifted him up, threw him down, east, then west, west, west, west. Toward the setting sun, and east again to where the body lay. An empty vessel. Rich brown hair. Jade eyes. Empty as the rain fell and wet his deathly pale skin.   
  
And seeing himself that way scared him. So he reached and reached, fighting the invisible tides that were pulling him farther and farther away from the shore he desperately sought. For a while he felt like he was drowning in the sky; like a leaf so mercilessly carried and battered by harsh gusts of wind.   
  
But it was useless. And he could already see the walls of heaven glistening before his eyes. Tall, strong, and sealed shut. They far from beckoned and resonated irritatingly as he touched the smooth surface of radiant gold. Verdant eyes squeezed shut in frustration, and his translucent hand pounded on the gates. No one answered, but upon bringing his ear against he door, he heard whispers: Marshal Tenpou has come back no that can't be him stop don't open the gate not yet why has he come Marshal Tenpou not possible who does he think he is what nerve has he and without but where are they no he is alone...  
  
Alone.   
  
But no, he would never let me...  
  
And suddenly a violent rush of air threw him to the ground. Weighed down upon him as if the entire sky were imploding around him. Swallowing him in a tornado of blurred pictures that came and went came and went. Books and wine, cigarettes and papers, battles and soldiers, cinnamon and the sun, sets of eyes all so familiar, the voices, the butterflies that glowed in the moonlight. Yes, those and the kisses. Wanting. Needing. Giving. Claiming. Mine. You are mine. Forever. Mine. And no one else's. His lips tingled with memory and before he knew it, he was falling. Barreling through the sky like a shooting star. Falling falling and burning burning until there was nothing but dirt in front of him. And rain. Gently falling. And his body being cradled in the strong arms of another. He fell and crashed into that lifeless piece of flesh and brought back its breath.   
  
Hakkai bolted up from the bed, breathing heavily and clutching the sweat soaked sheets that were tangled around his half naked body. He buried his face in his shaking hands then did the second most natural thing he could ever do: he smiled.  
  
"Don't tell me. Hell is a lot more proletarian that you thought." said a voice through the darkness, tainted with the scent of cigarette smoke. "And dammit, stop smiling."   
  
The brunette looked to where the weak glow of a lighter illuminated twin scars framed by blood red hair. Eyes with the same searing heat of the sun focused on him with a sadness he had grown so used to recognizing. Next to him on the bed, Gojyo chucked softly and absently ran a hand through Hakkai's now-damp hair.  
  
"You almost died, you idiot. Again." explained the taller man, his relief covered by mild irritation. "Heh. I should've gotten used to this by now. Almost dying's become a hobby."   
  
"Sumimasen..."  
  
"Stop apologizing while you're at it." Gojyo cut him off gruffly. "One last thing."   
  
"Hai?"  
  
"Don't try to go on ahead anymore. Ain't gonna be fun if I'm not there."  
  
"Ah...Hai."  
  
Hakkai fell back into the pillows, realizing too late the bandages that bound his torso. Pain shot through every part of his body and his breath hitched. Faintly, ever so faintly, he could feel fleeting kisses across his forehead, his temples, jaw, his pain twisted mouth and sweat sheened throat. //Shhhh. It's okay. Relax.// They said. And he did, settling himself in the embrace that was the only thing keeping his soul where it was.   
  
"Ahead..." the brunette murmured. "Nothing much there, for now."  
  
For good reasons, Gojyo didn't answer. After an ambiguous grunt, he took out a fresh packet of cigarettes to keep him going until Hakkai fell into a safe sleep.   
  
"Um, Gojyo?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"May I have one?"   
  
"What the fuck?" the half youkai started and started dumbly at the smiling face that said 'I'm not kidding.' There was no arguing, but of course, there could have been perfectly natural causes for this slight derangement. Hakkai never smoked. "Did you get a concussion too?"  
  
"I don't think so, but then again, I have been unconscious for quite a while. I wouldn't know."  
  
Incredulous silence followed.   
  
Oh well. Hakkai turned over to face the window with easily accepted resignation, but was stopped by the tightening of the arm around his waist and a tanned hand softly prying his lips apart to place a cigarette between them.   
  
"You, are one weird guy, you know that." commented Gojyo to the other youkai as he bent over him and lit the cigarette with his own.  
  
"Hmm."   
  
Smoke and companionable silence. Yes. This felt right. But maybe he did have a concussion. Hakkai mused at the thought. Either that or he was hallucinating. But he was positive that what he was smoking was really and truly only a cigarette. Nothing else.   
  
But then...what was that hovering above them?   
  
A butterfly. Its wings reflecting the light of a celestial moon. Dancing merrily before his eyes and happy to be finally noticed once more. It danced. Gracefully through the smoke imbibed darkness. It rose. It fell. Rose, then fell... 


End file.
